Page 24 of A Match of Misfortune (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #7)

Nash stepped forward, placing a hand on Fredrick’s shoulder. “What a strapping young lad you’ve become. You will certainly do a great service to the Markham name.”

Fredrick puffed out his chest ever so slightly. “I shall certainly try to make my way in this world, as both you and your father have.”

“I do not doubt you will for a moment.”

“Fredrick,” Bridget stepped forward when the familial greetings had ended. His gaze shifted to her. “You remember the Bradshaw sisters—Miss Bradshaw and Miss Adelaide?”

Fredrick bowed, his gaze moving from Cecily to her sister. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

Cecily dipped into a brief curtsy but did not speak, allowing his attention to remain on her sister. He kept his eyes fixed on Adelaide’s face, not once lowering to her invalid chair. Cecily liked him all the better for it.

“And you, Mr. Markham.” Adelaide’s voice was just above a whisper, though Cecily noted with pride that she did not drop her gaze. “I understand that you are a master of riddles.”

“I’m not certain I’ve ever been proficient enough to call myself a master, but I do enjoy a good riddle.” He grinned. “You have one for me, don’t you?”

She gave a timid nod, her rosy cheeks a shade deeper than usual.

“Well, go on.”

“What do you own that is used by others more than you will ever use it yourself?”

His gaze grew distant, and he sat pondering, shaking his head from time to time, until his face brightened. “My name.”

She nodded.

“Here’s one,” he said. “What is so fragile that saying its name breaks it?”

“Silence,” she said without a moment of hesitation.

He gave a handsome smile. “I can see I’ll have to do better than that with you.”

Adelaide dropped her gaze, a long blonde curl falling over her shoulder.

“Would you like to come sit with me until dinner is called? Perhaps we could share a few more riddles?”

A beautiful blush filled her cheeks. “I would like that very much.”

Cecily moved to assist in pushing the chair, but he stepped up to the back. “Allow me.”

“The rear wheel sometimes catches,” Cecily said, unable to prevent herself.

He glanced down at it, gave a nod, then started Adelaide’s chair forward at a cautious pace.

Mr. and Mrs. Markham moved to speak with Lord Rothsburg, while Bridget shot Cecily a pleased look, coming to join her. “They seem to be getting on well.”

“He is a delightful young man.” Cecily watched as he carefully maneuvered Adelaide next to a solitary chair on the far side of the drawing room and took a seat beside her. He truly seemed to be excited that she was here. “And so handsome.”

“We were about that same age when we met,” Nash said, leaning in toward where Bridget and Cecily stood whispering. “But I do not recall you thinking me a delightful young man.”

Cecily glanced up at him. “Because you were not.”

He arched a brow. “But you did think me handsome.”

Cecily set her gaze back on Bridget, who watched the two of them with interest. “I do hope you were able to get some rest today,” she said, ignoring Nash entirely.

“In truth, I’ve been excessively bored. I had thought to send a note requesting that you come keep me company, but with how much time you’ve been spending here, I figured you’d likely wish for a day with the Markhams and your sister.

” Bridget looked from Nash to Cecily. “Though if you don’t mind, I think I want to hear how this conversation between the two of you turns out.

Not only for my entertainment, mind you, but it will help me gain a better understanding of this”—she gestured between them—“complicated relationship the two of you share.”

Cecily refrained from restating that they, in fact, did not share much of a relationship at all. “Truly, as I’ve said before, there isn’t much to know.”

Nash flicked his chin in her direction. “She set her mind to dislike me before we ever met.”

Cecily met Nash’s gaze. “Are you certain it wasn’t your talent for vexing me that caused the rift between us? After all, at our introduction, you did compare my hair to straw.”

Nash chuckled. “I had meant the color of it, though I now acknowledge that wheat might have been a more tactful comparison.”

“As soon as we were out of earshot of your father and Mrs. Markham, you said I looked the part of a disgruntled scarecrow. ”

Bridget’s eyes widened. “Surely not?”

He held up a finger between himself and Cecily.

“I admit, that comment was mainly intended to vex you, but with the combination of your overdone scowl and how your hair was slightly askew from traveling that first day, you cannot deny that you very well could have scared an entire murder of crows had we stood you in a field.”

Vindicated, Cecily’s gaze slid to Bridget. “Case in point.”

Bridget pinched her lips together, clearly fighting her amusement.

“But after so many years apart, to still be so entirely set against one another makes little sense. Especially when you both love the Markhams so dearly. Unless there is more that you’re not telling me?

” Her gaze shifted back and forth between them with suspicion.

“Mr. Markham, you did claim that Cecily thought you were handsome, and I can hardly think you failed to appreciate her beauty. Were there ever feelings between the two of you?”

Cecily’s cheeks betrayed her with growing warmth, but she would not confess what had occurred between the two of them before Nash had left for India. She only prayed Nash would feel similarly and resist sharing the story.

“Unfortunately not,” Nash said before Cecily could even send him an imploring glance. “Not that I would have minded the idea of a pretty young woman pining after me while I was away.”

For the second time since his return, Cecily found herself grateful that Nash refrained from sharing more than he needed to while simultaneously not appreciating his haphazard method of going about it.

“Speaking of pretty young women, I suppose your hunt for a wife has been temporarily suspended?”

Nash gave a brief, humorless laugh. “It’s hard to find a lady to court when one spends all their time at the docks.” He paused. “And it’s not as though I’m declining invitations. ”

Bridget gave a nod of understanding.

“But it’s no matter,” Nash continued. “India is a long way from England. It hardly seems fair to ask a new bride to relocate halfway across the world.”

“You are giving up your hope of marrying?”

“For now.”

Cecily studied his profile. Was he in earnest?

“Well, at least we shall have one marriage by the end of the Season.” Bridget looked near ready to burst from excitement, and Cecily’s stomach twisted as she wondered what her reason for it was. “You recall Lord Weaton, Lord Harlow’s friend?”

Cecily gave a stiff nod of her head.

“Oswald was speaking to him at White’s earlier, and he mentioned that Lord Harlow is to offer for you.”

Without permission, Cecily’s gaze shifted to Nash, and the force of his look stole the breath from her lungs. She forced her attention back to Bridget.

“Is that not wonderful news?” Bridget said, still beaming.

“I …” Cecily cleared her throat. “Is Lord Weaton certain that is Lord Harlow’s intention?”

“Yes.” Bridget’s expression softened. “I know you likely do not wish to get your hopes up, but I would not have shared the news were I not certain of it.”

Cecily’s chest suddenly felt tight. She pulled her shoulders back to compensate for it, but it didn’t help relieve the pressure. “We have only known one another for a short time.”

“A gentleman must act swiftly once he is sure of his decision, or he might miss his opportunity. It is the way of things. Oswald and I only knew one another for a fortnight before he offered for me.” She reached out and took hold of Cecily’s hand.

“Besides, Lord Harlow is precisely the sort of match you are hoping for—practical, not the least bit dull, and plenty handsome. You will also be a countess.”

Cecily resisted another glance at Nash to see what he would make of Bridget’s comment.

It was true that, if she were looking to marry sensibly, Lord Harlow was a prudent choice.

But she was not looking to marry, so news of an impending offer made her feel as though she might be sick.

She placed a hand over her chest, pulling in a slow, calming breath while she considered an appropriate response.

The Rothsburgs’ butler stepped just inside the door, drawing the attention of the room. “Dinner is served.”

“Splendid,” Bridget said, brightening again and turning toward her husband. He moved to her side, and Nash glanced at Cecily.

“If you’ll excuse me, I must see to my sister.

” Fredrick was already standing to assist Adelaide, but Cecily stayed her course and stepped up behind Adelaide’s chair, unable to face Nash at the moment.

She needed some time to compose herself as they made their way to the dining hall.

To think through her situation and the impending proposal.

It was unfortunate that she’d done such a poor job of deterring Lord Harlow, and that each time she’d thought to speak with him about her misgivings, it had felt too presumptuous of her.

Unlike many of the other suitors vying for her, Lord Harlow had not even breached the topic of courtship, and yet now, it seemed he meant to skip the conversation entirely.

The realization made Cecily dizzy with nerves.

Setting down gentlemen who showed a slight interest in courting her was a task she’d come to dread most profoundly, but a proposal only came when one was certain of their feelings.

When one was certain they wished to spend a lifetime with another person.

Cecily well knew Lord Harlow to be mistaken in his conclusion, but she did not wish him to suffer the embarrassment that came from a refusal.

And she did not wish to be the bearer of such news.

Though perhaps it was not too late to avoid the situation of a proposal entirely .

Unintentionally, Cecily’s gaze shifted behind her where Nash followed the group down the corridor, speaking to his parents.

She ignored the way her stomach lifted when his gaze met hers and instead reconsidered the idea she’d come up with.

Perhaps she had too hastily dismissed it.

Or perhaps she simply hadn’t been desperate enough at the time.

She felt adequately desperate now.